Incidental Happenstance

by DeSalvo, Kim

  “That was the main reason I made that decision. I want to tell everyone in the world that I love you, but I’m afraid of how some of them will react. I knew I didn’t want to deal with the hassle when I thought I might only have a couple days to spend with you, and then I had so much to do to get ready for this trip…”

  “I want to tell the whole world, too. But it’s going to a big story, and the paparazzi will be all over you; and I won’t be there to help you deal with it. I was thinking we might wait until I’ve finished the film before we go public—how do you feel about that?”

  Tia didn’t have to think about it for long—she’d been considering all of these things since the first day she met him, and had no desire to deal with the publicity alone. “I think it’s a good idea too,” she agreed. “I definitely want you by my side when I have to deal with that.” “You could tell your friends, though,” he said smiling. “While you still know who all your real friends are. I don’t have to be a big dark secret.”

  “I could,” she said, noncommittally. She wanted to desperately, especially now that she knew he returned her love and that they had a future together. But she was still nervous about how much her life would change once that knowledge was out there, especially when she’d have to face it alone until spring. She’d cross that bridge when she came to it, she figured.

  Chapter 24

  August came way too soon, and the realization began to sink in that they were going to have to say goodbye long before either of them wanted to. Tia’s last stop was Florence, and although it was a beautiful city, it was a bittersweet part of the summer for her. Mostly bitter. InHap still had two stops left in Europe before wrapping up the tour, and then it was on to New Zealand for Dylan, who had barely a week to spend with his family in Melbourne before filming began.

  On their last night together, they held each other in silence as each dealt with the reality that they wouldn’t see each other for months. Tia’s schedule didn’t allow her any significant time off until Christmas break, but Dylan had invited her to Melbourne to meet his family and spend Christmas with him in Australia. She knew that her own family would miss her over the holidays, but was confident that her parents would want her to follow her dreams and to be happy, and she gladly agreed to join him. She was nervous about meeting his family, but thrilled that he wanted her to. He’d send her plane tickets in November, he said, once he had his own schedule worked out and knew exactly when he’d be able to get away.

  There were no more words to be spoken between them—they’d said everything they’d needed to say over the past three months—so they just held on, wishing the minutes would tick by more slowly as her departure grew ever nearer. Neither of them slept but a couple winks, and even those were spent entangled in each other anyway. Parting was something neither of them wanted to do.

  “It isn’t goodbye, remember that,” Dylan whispered as he rode with her to the airport. It was hard for her to believe that the next day she’d be back at work, setting up her classroom for another school year, on the other side of the world from the man she loved. Somehow, putting up bulletin boards and designing lesson plans seemed the furthest things from her mind, yet it was her reality.

  “I know,” she whispered. “It’s just going to be so long before I see you again…oh God, I don’t know how I’m going to go through the motions.”

  “I know, I know,” Dylan said softly. “It’s going to be the same for me, you know. I’ll be thinking of you all the time and we’ll talk, and email…” but they both knew that was going to be difficult. There was an eighteen hour time difference between Chicago and Auckland, and with both of them working, it would be tough to stay connected. Somehow, she thought, she had to get through the next four months without him. She’d become so accustomed to seeing him every day, spending the nights with him in their shared bed, and now she would go home to the boring normalcy that was her life before she’d met him. There was no plan for how she was going to make it—there just didn’t seem to be an easy way. She also didn’t know how she was going to talk about the amazing summer she’d had without bursting at the seams. She was in love with the most incredible man and wanted to tell everyone, but she still didn’t know if she should tell anyone who the love of her life really was.

  Dylan went in disguise to the airport, so he could spend every possible moment with her before she had to go through the security line and out of his sight—out of his life. They held each other until the last possible minute, kissing and whispering “I love you” until it was time for her to go. One last kiss, and then he watched her as she constantly looked back to him, tears spilling freely down her cheeks, until she turned the corner and was out of sight. It was going to be a rough few months, he knew, and he would miss her terribly, but he felt certain their love was strong enough to survive time and distance; and there sure would be plenty of both.

  The tears wouldn’t stop as she turned the corner and Dylan was out of her sight. For months. Her breath hitched in her chest and she had to wipe at her eyes just so she could read the signs and find her departure gate. She finally found the right place and fell into an empty seat while the people around her either openly stared or glanced at her from the corners of their eyes. She didn’t care that people were staring—she was going to have to ride out this wave of emotion—it was pointless to try and stop it.

  A woman about her age sat across and a few seats over from where Tia had landed, surrounded by half a dozen purses and backpacks. She rose from her seat and handed Tia a tissue. “Are you OK?” she asked tenderly.

  Tia nodded and croaked, “Not really, but I’ll be alright eventually. Thanks.”

  “Is there anything I can do? Anything you need?”

  Tia was grateful for the kindness, but knew that there wasn’t anything anyone could do to make her feel better. “Thanks,” she said again, “but there’s nothing.” She wiped the tears from her face and added, “I just had to say goodbye to my boyfriend, and I won’t see him again for four months.” More tears spilled, and she dabbed at them with the already sodden tissue.

  The woman reached into her purse and pulled out a travel-sized pack. “Oh, that sucks,” she said, handing Tia the package. “You’re probably going to need the whole pack, then.” Tia took the tissues gratefully and the woman nodded sympathetically and went back to her seat.

  Tia did the only thing she could—she pulled out her iPad, popped in her ear buds, cranked up some of Dylan’s music, and started scrolling through her pictures. It didn’t make her feel better; she could feel the sense of loss becoming a physical hole; but she had his voice in her ear and his images in her hand; two empty hours before they started boarding the plane, and a whole pack of tissues.

  Each picture was a treasured memory and she was still amazed that they had done so much in just two and a half months. She took in the pictures slowly, savoring each memory: the two of them hiking the Alps near Vienna, Dylan leaning casually against a tree with the majestic mountains in the background, them zipping around Munich on Segways and walking the English Gardens. Other shots showed Dylan in his punk rock disguise, scowling at the Brandenburg Gate; in front of the Kibble Palace glasshouse; her smiling with the whole band back stage in Glasgow…

  She was so engrossed in pulling forth the details from each picture that she didn’t notice the small crowd that had gathered behind her; hadn’t heard the first exclamation from the guy who’d inadvertently noticed, over her shoulder, the primary subject of her photos. A light touch on her shoulder jerked her from her revelry and she flinched, turning to see the interested expressions on the dozen or so faces that had been watching from behind her. She clutched her iPad to her chest and pulled out her ear buds, Dylan’s voice suddenly tinny and distant, and looked at the strangers questioningly.

  “That’s Dylan Miller, isn’t it, in your pictures?” a scrawny young man asked reverently.

  There was no point in trying to hide it, Tia thought, they’d obviously already se
en that it was. “Yeah,” she answered.

  “Holy hell!” Tissue Woman exclaimed. “He isn’t the boyfriend you had to say goodbye to…is he?”

  Tia just nodded. Part of her was thrilled that she could actually tell someone about Dylan, but the way they were all staring at her was making her uncomfortable at the same time.

  “Whoa, wait a minute…” the scrawny guy interjected. “You’re the mystery woman—from the London show—the one who sang on stage with Incidental Happenstance—I saw you on the monitor; I thought you looked familiar!”

  “You were at the Wembley show?” Tia asked, surprised that she was running into him now, in Italy.

  “We spent the summer backpacking,” he said, indicating with a toss of his head an equally scrawny and scruffy looking companion, “and pretty much followed them around, catching as many shows as we could. It was you, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” Tia admitted, “it was me.”

  “You were really good, by the way!” the companion added.

  “Thanks.” She was feeling crowded and anxious now; several other people had heard the exchange and were expanding the group, and they started firing questions at her all at once.

  “What’s he like?” “You were on the whole tour with them?” “Do you know the rest of the band?” “Are they all as cool as they seem?” “Was he really here, at the airport?” “Can we see the rest of your pictures?” And dozens of others that were lost in the din.

  Tia held up her hands to stop them. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I’m really emotional right now, and I just want to have a little pity party for myself. I will tell you, though, that Dylan is the most incredible person I’ve ever met, and that all the guys in InHap are awesome.”

  She started to put her ear buds back in, hoping they’d get the hint and leave her alone, but they weren’t swayed so easily.

  “Wait!” another voice called from the crowd. “Today’s my sister’s birthday and she’s like, totally hot for…” he caught himself, and changed his tone. “I mean, she’s a huge fan of his. Do you think you could get him to call her and wish her a happy birthday? It would mean the world to her, really.”

  Tia was flabbergasted that some total stranger expected that she’d just call him up and ask him something like that. Before she could answer though, another voice rose up. “Maybe you could call him and we could pass the phone around—that would be so cool!”

  “Sorry,” Tia said, “but he’s on a plane right now on his way to Greece.” Or at least he would be very soon. She wouldn’t have done it anyway, but it made it easier for her that she didn’t have to come up with a story or be rude. Of course, she thought it was incredibly rude for a complete stranger to ask that of her, but that was the kind of thing that would happen always, she realized, when you were dating someone as well-known and popular as Dylan, and it would become her reality as soon as their relationship was public knowledge. She instantly had a better understanding of his need to go out in disguise—it was kind of creepy having a bunch of people who didn’t know you crowding in on your personal space. They were fans, of course, which would be flattering, but they were strangers, nonetheless.

  “Hey, do you think I can I get a picture with you?” the tissue woman asked.

  Tia’s face scrunched up in question. “Why in the world would you want a picture of me? I’m not the one who’s famous.”

  “Not yet,” she answered, “but if you’re seriously dating Dylan Miller I’m sure you will be eventually.”

  Tia was floored, and as she glanced around wide-eyed at the sea of interested faces, it dawned on her then that she couldn’t share Dylan’s identity with the people back home—not yet. If total strangers were unabashedly asking her to impose on Dylan for their own whims, what would her friends do? Dylan would do pretty much whatever she asked of him—he’d gladly signed a picture for Lilly—but he’d said so many times that one of the biggest drawbacks of his celebrity status was that everyone seemed to want something from him, and she’d never take advantage of their relationship that way. Once they went public all her real friends would meet him; he’d probably even go with Sean to poker night when he could; but she’d tell them beforehand in no uncertain terms that they needed to treat him like a normal person.

  She knew all too well that it only took one slip of one tongue to spread juicy news like wildfire and unfortunately, there were tongues at both work and at the club that she didn’t trust; and one of them was her own mother. They wouldn’t betray her purposely, she truly believed that, but this kind of news could prove too good to keep, and she definitely didn’t want to deal with this kind of attention on a regular basis—not without Dylan by her side.

  Tia grabbed her carry-on and hastily stood up. “Sorry,” she said, “but I really just need to be alone right now.” She made her way quickly to the first class lounge. She hadn’t wanted to go in there while she was having her emotional meltdown, but now she pushed through the door and went up to the bar, ordering a drink and taking a seat at a little table in the corner with her back to the wall so no one could look over her shoulder. She waited for the final boarding call before she slipped onto the plane, knowing she’d be one of the first ones off and that she could quickly disappear at JFK when she caught her connecting flight. Her seat was like a little private cocoon, and she sank into it gratefully, ordering a glass of red wine and popping in her ear buds.

  She’d saved the videos for last. There were hours of them—she was really glad she’d spent the extra money to get the most storage space on her iPad—and she had a nearly 12 hour journey ahead of her. She watched them in order, and marveled at how obvious it was that she and Dylan were falling in love as the trip progressed. She saw what Jessa had seen—the way they looked at each other, the comfort level building, their shared experiences bringing them closer. She watched Dylan performing the song he’d written for her and sung atop the Eiffel Tower—the first time he’d told her he loved her. He sang it for her camera sitting shirtless on the balcony of their suite in Madrid and she smiled as she remembered how she’d gone to him after and they’d made love. When it ended, she hit play again and watched it three more times, smiling through her film of tears. It wasn’t until the very end that she saw Dylan had left her with a goodbye video, knowing that she’d see it after she was gone. She touched the play button, and his voice filled her head while his image held steady on the screen.

  “Ah, Tia,” he said, his voice full of melancholy, “you’re sleeping in the next room right now, and I just couldn’t shut my eyes for even a second. I’ve been watching you sleep, and thinking about how tomorrow night I’ll be in yet another strange bed, but you won’t be with me; and you’ll be too far away for me to reach you. You snore, you know, but it’s just tiny little sounds that you make and it’s really cute.” She smiled, tears once again spilling over her cheeks. “Sometimes you murmur my name in your sleep,” he continued, “and it makes my heart sing every time you do it. I know you’ll see this—I’ll be pouring over my pictures and videos too, reliving the incredible summer we just spent together—and I want you to know that I love you more than I can say, and that we’re going to have a lot more incredible times together. I dread saying goodbye to you tomorrow, but I know that our love is incredibly strong—God, how did that happen in just a few short months?” He did that one eyebrow thing that she loved, “—and that we’ll be together again. That’s what I’m going to be holding on to, you know, the sound of your laugh and the feel of your lips against mine and the…well, you know,” he waggled his eyebrows. “We’re pretty great together in every way, don’t you think? I just wanted to tell you one more time that I love you, that I’ll be thinking of you every minute while I’m away, and that I’ll be counting down the days until I can see you again. You have my heart—don’t doubt that for a minute—and I trust you’ll keep it safe. I miss you, and I’ll be thinking of you all the time—I already said that, didn’t I? You are by far the best incidental happen
stance to crash into my life, and I’m so glad that we found each other. So anyway, my love, think of me too, OK?” His image on the screen turned toward the open door behind him. “Well, I’m going to get back to watching you sleep—I want to hold you as much as I can before you have to go; so I’ll say farewell, but not goodbye, because we’ll be together again.”

  Dylan’s image blew her a kiss, and then froze, the play arrow obscuring his face. She hit the button again, and watched the video over and over, tears falling freely and silently. She reached into her purse and pulled out a notepad and immediately began writing him a letter. She’d write him constantly, she figured, and that would help her through the next four months—at least a little.

  Arriving back at O’Hare sent Tia’s spirits in a downward spiral that was beyond her control. She called Lexi, who was circling the airport, waiting for her, and met her at the arrivals lane. She dumped her suitcases unceremoniously into the trunk and jumped into the car. Lexi hugged her, but the look on Tia’s face said that she was less than thrilled to be home.

  “Oh, sweetie, you miss him already, don’t you?” she asked rhetorically.

  “From the minute I left him,” she said. “I knew it was going to be hard, but right now it seems damned near impossible.”

  “But you’ll see him at Christmas, right? It’s not so far away.”

  “Christmas is four freaking months from now—it’s still summer!” She pouted, but she’d cried herself out on the plane. There were no more tears left. “And then when I do see him again,” she added, “it’s not going to be just the two of us; I’m going to be meeting his whole family. That part already scares me to death—I’m just a flipping elementary school teacher—how am I going to measure up?”

  “Measure up to what?” Lexi asked. “The fake people he’s dated in the past? Do you even know if he’s introduced any of his other girlfriends to them? Just be yourself—who can help but love you?” She leaned over and kissed Tia on the cheek. “You know I do.”